


Satisfaction

by enkiduu



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Autofellatio, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkiduu/pseuds/enkiduu
Summary: Matt can suck his own cock. Foggy thinks he's joking....Yeah, Matt is not joking.“No, I'm not,” Matt agrees, amused, but there's something to his voice that makes it rougher than usual. “I could...” He licks his lips. “I could show you, if you want.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, there was a [prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/8773.html?thread=17562949#cmt17562949). The prompt tempted me, and then this happened. Oops.
> 
> Also fills the "I'm delicious" prompt on my Daredevil Bingo card, I guess

“Foggy. Did I ever mention how I'm very flexible?” Matt asks one day out of the blue, mischief on his lips, breaking the comfortable silence between them. 

Foggy smiles back—it's a reflex. Smile when he sees Matt smile. He’ll never get tired of seeing that. “You don’t need to. I know you're very flexible,” he says dryly. “It's like a prerequisite for those acrobatics you do all the time. What’s on your mind?” 

“Well,” Matt drawls conspiratorially, sitting forward in his couch. Foggy mirrors the action. “You know what else, other than those acrobatics I do all the time, requires flexibility?” 

“Dodging questions?” 

Matt grins. He doesn't deny it. “I was thinking more in the... pleasure department.” 

“Huh.” Foggy blinks. “Okay. Keep going. I’m not sure _where_ you’re going with this, Matt, but keep going.”

Matt’s smile turns wry, like he’s not sure either. “Letting the blind lead? Not very smart of you, Foggy.” 

“Yeah, not really,” Foggy agrees, because he's been not very smart when it comes to Matt Murdock for a very long time. After he met him, all sanity just went whoosh out the window. “You have a habit of getting into very interesting situations. It's like you're determined to be the protagonist of some action show.” 

“Why would I do that? I wouldn't even be able to see the show,” Matt points out. 

“Yeah, but you'd love all the religious symbolism and poetic justice. That's the TV people go for nowadays,” Foggy says. “Well. That and the Kardashians.” 

“Ah, fine, you got me—my last secret is out. I'm practicing lines as we speak. The interview’s on Monday,” he confesses. “I've even got a bunch of slogans drafted. Wanna hear?” 

Foggy laughs. Then he says, “Wait. Wait just a minute. You're stalling,” he realizes, pointing a finger at Matt. “J’accuse!” 

Matt tilts his head, blinking owlishly. “Am I?” His lips quirk up. 

What's been on his mind enough that he actually brings it up (before it blows up in their faces and Foggy finds him on the brink of death), but then stalls and deflects so he doesn't have to actually go through with it? 

That’s probably an indication that this is very important. How, Foggy doesn't see, because flexibility and pleasure? When does Matt even have the time for sex, between all the Daredevil and lawyer work?

“Matt,” Foggy begins slowly. “If you slept with the Black Widow and pissed her off, you should tell me now so I can prepare the paperwork for us to move to Antarctica.” 

“Antarctica—what?” Matt blinks. “What? No, Foggy. No,” he says, confused and scandalized. “What gave you that idea? I still have some sense of self-preservation left.” 

Foggy kinda doubts that. “Well, that's a relief, I guess. What is it, then?” 

“It’s nothing bad,” Matt says reassuringly. “I just wanted to tell you that I can suck my own cock.” 

Foggy’s mind goes blank as he tries to process that. When he does, he raises his eyebrows. Seriously. They go all the way up to his hairline, so far that he’s afraid they’re gonna get stuck up there. 

“Matty,” he says, squinting at him. “Matt. You're joking, right? Is that even possible?” He tries to wrap his mind around that idea, which turns out to be a terrible idea because now he's imagining Matt naked and bending over and sucking his own cock, and oh, no. That sounds like an excellent idea. 

Matt just smirks. He can probably hear Foggy’s jaw dropping. 

“Holy shit! You're not joking!” 

“No, I'm not,” Matt agrees, amused, but there's something to his voice that makes it rougher than usual. “I could...” He licks his lips. “I could show you, if you want.” 

If he's going for casual, he misses by a mile, hitting eager instead. Nervous, too, and Foggy doesn't think he's seen him nervous before. 

Foggy’s proud of his self-control, since he bites his tongue and doesn't say _fuck yes please that sounds surprisingly hot I am so down for this, let's go._ “Yeah,” he manages instead. “That sounds—cool.” 

Shit, Nelson! Your best friend just told you he can suck his own dick and all you can say is that sounds _cool?_

Really, though. What's he supposed to say to that? He doesn't know the protocol for this kind of situation. He didn't realize this kind of situation was even in the realm of possibility. Him, and Matt, and... maybe he's over thinking this? 

Then, Matt leans back and unfastens his jeans, kicking them off, and to hell with thinking at all. Matt shoves a hand down his underwear and starts to stroke himself, breathing growing heavier by the second. He shuts his eyes for a moment, a pleased moan escaping his lips. 

Foggy’s heart is beating too fast for this. He digs his fingers into the couch as he watches, eyes wide and fixated on the scene before him. 

He's dreamt about this before, more than once. Not this, specifically, because this is, well, this. But—Matt, debauched, moaning, that's really hot. There's a tent in his boxers and Foggy’s own cock is throbbing with anticipation and desire. 

There's tension in the air, because Matt is clearly putting on a show, not just for his enjoyment. He knows it, Foggy knows it, and if either of them says something, it'll be true, and that'll change things. So Foggy tries to not make a sound as Matt pulls his shirt off, muscles rippling, and the boxers follow after, revealing his cock. 

Foggy stares, mouth dry. He wants so badly to move forward and touch, but he also wants to watch. The scene’s branded inside his mind, he's not ever going to forget this. 

Matt stretches lithely and then dips forward, back arching. His lips part and yeah, sure enough, he's really fucking flexible. His tongue darts out for a lick—teasingly slow, purposeful. Then, Foggy watches in fascination as Matt’s mouth closes around his own cock, swallowing down. 

It's obscene. It's so fucking hot, the way Matt bobs his head, moaning around himself sinfully like he can't help it, and Foggy wonders how his heightened senses make this, wonders who Matt imagined when he did this in the past, wonders if the fact that Foggy is watching makes it better. He sucks himself like he's trying to impress Foggy, and, fuck. Fuck. 

Matt’s flushed, making sounds of pleasure that are dizzying and delicious, and Foggy feels just as wrecked as Matt. 

“Fuck, Matt,” Foggy rasps, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Matt makes a noise akin to a whimper, filled with so much want. The movement of his head stops but he's still swallowing, and it takes Foggy a moment to realize that Matt came, in his own mouth, and that’s almost enough to send Foggy over the edge too. 

Matt’s panting when he sits up, a little shakily, and he wipes at his mouth. 

Foggy is so hard. “Well,” he says. “That. Was quite the show, Matt.” 

“Not the action you were imagining,” Matt guesses. His voice is hoarse, of course it is. 

“No,” Foggy agrees. Things’ll change. He's more than fine with this. “A lot better.” 

Matt smiles, relieved. It morphs into a wicked smirk that promises all the things Foggy wants to believe, with a touch of vulnerability that makes it so he does. He stands up and moves forward, kneeling in front of Foggy. 

“I'm going to make this so good for you, Foggy,” Matt says. “So good. I've had a lot of practice.” 

Foggy groans. “Next time you want to give me a blowjob,” he says, voice strained as Matt takes his cock out, “please just ask so we don't have to wait so many years.” 

“Can I give you a blowjob?” Matt asks. If it's meant to be cheeky, he fails, because he sounds like he's praying, begging, falling apart and coming together at once. 

Foggy shudders and nods. “God. Yes, Matt, _please_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Are you confused? Because I am confused. I still wrote this, but, the confusion is real. 
> 
> Find me @en-ki-duu on tumblr to talk all things daredevil and whatnot! <3


End file.
